


beeloved

by orphan_account



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cisco Is As Sweet As Honey, Crush at First Sight, Dante Is Getting His Life Together, Family Fluff, Gestures, HR Runs A Bee Sanctuary, M/M, Ramon Bro Feels, Romantic Fluff, Where He Helps Bees and People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: HR doesn't get involved with the clients who are rebuilding their lives on the bee farm.Cisco isn't a client.





	beeloved

**Author's Note:**

> astarlitsunflower and i made up this au bc we are soft for soft hrisco. they made [this moodboard](https://aquamattel.tumblr.com/post/184482459709/astarlitsunflower-made-the-sweetest-aesthetic-for) and i cried and wrote this drabble for it.

The farm isn’t welcoming any new worker bees today. At least, HR didn’t think they were. Iris is diligent with her referrals, heart eyes always on the lookout for anyone leaving the prison or the Seaside Rehab clinic who could use a trade and some sweetness. She’s also diligent about informing HR of her referrals. He likes to be prepared for new arrivals. Know their name, any sensitivities, their t-shirt size. He doesn’t even have a welcome basket ready.

But HR has only turned away a handful of prospects in the time he’s run the farm as a resource slash refuge for the bees and people who need saving. And the man standing stiff against his own car door, fidgeting with a leather jacket that fits him obscenely well, curls pressed to his cheek from early summer breeze, doesn’t seem like a stinger. HR has excellent instincts for people’s venom.

HR gently eases away from the hive he’s been cultivating. He snaps to get Wally’s attention, jerking his head to their new guest, and Wally smiles then nods. HR smiles back at his right hand man.

As he walks closer, the stranger becomes clear and crystal, sharp as the fuzziness of distance fades. He discovers feature after feature to politely and professionally ignore; full lips, a sweet dip in a strong chin, and when the man nervously tucks hair behind his ears, a clean cut jaw. It was only once that he made the mistake of neatly bottling his heart for someone here, and he hasn’t made it since, no matter how lovely a client has looked gleaming in the sun. The people he helps need understanding. No judgement, no lusty clouds shadowing HR’s ability to give what they need without expectations.

When HR reaches the man, he pops his beekeeper hood off and offers his most dazzling, welcoming, you’re safe here smiles.

“Hi,” he says, extending his hand.

The man blinks at it. Bites his lip, and HR absolutely doesn’t note how his mouth is as plush and deep rose colored as a petal. Before he can speak again, the man peers around HR’s shoulders, eyes wide. HR follows his eye line, but doesn’t see anything that could inflate the man’s rich brown gaze so cartoonishly.

“How can I - ”

“None of them followed you, did they?”

HR frowns and side steps, forcing the man to meet him. He doesn’t appreciate the suspicion or the edge with which this man is judging his farm, his people, his bees. “None of who?”

“The bees.” The man shifts and rocks, pressing himself against his car, leaning to lengthen the smooth line of his throat. “They’re all staying over there, right?”

“Yes?” HR answers.

“They’re not gonna come over here?”

HR tilts his head, appraising. “You don’t like bees very much, do you?”

“Ain’t nobody got time for bees,” he exhales, so genuinely terrified of the fuzziest, sweetest creatures that HR can’t help but smile. The man’s hair is wind kissed from behind his ears. When he attempts to smooth the strands again, they fall immediately back against his skin. It looks honey smooth.

“I have some time for bees,” HR says easily.

The words snap the man from his terror. He blinks as if he’s seeing HR for the first time, free of the buzz of nerves. His smile is sweet and soft as the wildflowers the farm presses into their famous honey face wash.

“Sorry. I really thought I was more mentally prepared for this. I didn’t think I’d be able to hear them. They’re so loud. Feels like they’re - right here, you know. In my face.” He accentuates the declaration by waving his palm in front of his face.

“Well they’re… not. They’re all the way over there.”

Worrying his lip again, he presses on his tip toe as if to see over HR’s shoulder, then frowns when he can’t. HR also absolutely doesn’t note their height difference.

“Okay. That’s good.”

HR nods. Waits. The man doesn’t do anything but bumble in his own nerves.

Gently, HR says, “You know, we welcome anyone here. And I’d be happy to teach you everything I know about our little friends so you’re not afraid of them anymore.”

“I think my fear is pretty healthy, actually.”

HR nods again. Waits again.

“Well,” he stretches after a tense moment. “Like I said, we welcome everyone. But learning to be a bee keeper might not be the best next step for you, Mr… ?”

“Ramon,” the man says. “Cisco Ramon.”

Realization dawns rosy in HR’s head. He should’ve noted the jaw line, the soulful spark in the eyes. “You’re Dante’s little brother?”

“Not that little,” the man - Cisco, frowns, in a way he probably doesn’t realize is as adorable as it is. “And yeah. I’m not here to join your, uh, sanctuary.”

There’s a spine shiver that makes Cisco shake. HR wants to reassure him, wants to teach him everything there is to know anyway, gentle his fears away. Instead he grins. “That’s probably for the best. I don’t think you would find a lot of peace here.”

“And you would be astoundingly correct. I just came to bring Dante lunch.”

“Oh,” HR says, because, oh. “That’s sweet.”

Cisco shifts on his feet, glancing quickly from HR’s gaze. “Yeah, not really. Our mom kind of made me.”

“Well then. You’re doing this for your mom and your brother. That’s a double shot of sweet.”

“Not really,” Cisco downplays again. He rubs the back of his neck and ducks his head, trying to hum from HR’s kindness. It makes HR want to be kinder. “Dante is here, right?”

“Of course he is.”

Cisco flinches. “Of course he is. Sorry. I’m just. Sometimes you get used to people not being where they’re supposed to be, you know? I didn’t mean to - ”

HR raises his palm. “Hey, hey. You don’t have anything to apologize for, okay? There’s no guilt in taking a while to build trust back. Your brother knows that, too. He knows he has work to do.”

And he does. Dante’s only been at the farm a few weeks, but he’s blossomed as much as anyone. HR is aware of every person’s story before the step foot in the field, although he waits for it to come up organically before offering to listen or speak. Dante shared everything HR thinks he’s going to share as they strummed guitars together one night when the farm was quiet, the bees their only accompaniment to the slow jam session. 

Dante had started by reminiscing how he and his brother used to play together the same way. How his brother would sing the songs Dante wrote but couldn’t breathe out. Then Dante struck a guitar chord that struck another chord and he was telling HR about the gang he ran with, the one he regrets more than anything recruiting his genius baby brother into with him. Admitted pushing Cisco out while digging himself deeper in, admitted losing his family and friends, losing himself, in the buzzing violence and highs until the jail stint that brought his case to Iris’ desk.

Seeing Cisco, who is every bit as sweet and sour as Dante described him, warms HR from the inside out. Bringing families back together isn’t something the farm can always facilitate. Sometimes there’s too much distance. Too many stings that haven’t quite stopped stinging. HR understands that pain intimately.

He doesn’t say that, of course. This is about the brothers Ramon, not the brothers Wells and the things between them that have yet to heal.

Instead, he says, “Dante is gonna be so happy to see you. And whatever you’ve brought for lunch. It’s just about break time.”

Cisco stares at him as if he’s become something alien, a tall grey unknown. HR amps his smile wider. It doesn’t seem to ease Cisco at all.

“Thank you,” Cisco says, sudden as spring but just as sincere. “You’re, like, the first person who hasn’t made me feel like the worst brother ever for not being able to just. Pretend like nothing’s happened.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” HR assures him quietly. “You just have to move forward.”

Cisco smiles, then, so bright it reminds HR why his mamas told him to never look directly in the sun. Little dizzy spots spread behind HR’s eyes.

“I can see why Dante likes it so much here.” Cisco seems to say the words before he realizes he’s said them. His lips soften, sheepish, and he peers at HR from beneath his lashes, and maybe it has been too long since he’s gotten any action besides a bee sting, just like Wally and Cindy have teased him. “I mean, he keeps saying how nice and supportive everyone is. I’m glad it’s really like that.”

He grins again, and HR can only grin stupidly back. “Yeah. Do you. Uh. I can go get him, if you want? There’s a clearing in the woods over there that’s good for picnics. We even left the little fire pit up if you guys want to, you know. Make s’mores or something.”

“S’mores,” Cisco repeats. “That’s cute.”

So cute, HR thankfully manages not to say. He can’t take his eyes off the little dimple that kisses Cisco’s cheek when he lights up.

“That would be great,” Cisco says.

“Yeah. S’mores are my favorite. Sometimes I manage to get the marshmallow in my hair - ”

A laugh that’s deeper than HR expected escapes. “I mean if you could get Dante for me. So I don’t have to walk through enemy territory.”

“Right, yeah, of course. I’ll send him your way. Like I said, he’ll be happy to see you, Cisco. Really happy.”

Cisco looks down again. But he’s still smiling. “Thanks,” he says to the ground. “I mean it, man. Thanks for everything you’re doing for him. You’re, uh, the bees knees.”

HR feels smacked stupid. Cisco isn’t even flirting with him, but the sweet turn of phrase from sweet stung lips is enough to make HR’s feet light. He practically skips to find Dante, who is still in the workshop where HR left him earlier.

“You have a visitor,” HR tells him, trying not to sound as sugar spun as he feels. “Cisco brought you lunch.”

Dante, still in jeans and one of the farm t-shirts, leans from his stooped position over the wooden crafting table. He looks almost as nervous as Cisco had.

“Cisco’s here?” A bead of sweat drizzles Dante’s hairline. HR doesn’t think it was there before he said Cisco’s name.

“Who’s Cisco?” Cindy asks, coming in from her own hive to shed her gear for lunch.

“My little brother.”

“Another Ramon boy?” she grins as she slips her hood off. “Is he as cute as you?”

“Cuter,” HR says automatically.

Dante turns quizzically to him. Cindy’s smile sharpens.

She moves next to Dante, jostling his shoulder. “Cuter. You gonna just take that, Ramon?”

“Well, he is. I got the Disney Prince jaw, but Cisco got… everything else. He has these cheeks.” Dante blows his out. “They’re adorable.”

“Squishable, even,” HR elaborates. From Dante’s furrowed brow, he realizes he said it out loud.

Cindy bounces delighted on her feet. “I wanna see Dante’s squishable baby bro.”

“You,” Dante says, putting up a finger, glaring from Cindy to HR to Cindy again. “Will be doing no squishing of my baby bro.”

“No one will be squishing him, okay, no matter how squishable he may be.” When Cindy crosses her arms, HR implores her to soften with a look. She sighs. “You should head out there. I showed him where you guys could picnic.”

Instead of moving, though, Dante hesitates.

“Did he say why he brought me lunch?”

HR answers honestly. He doesn’t honey it, doesn’t wrap it in flowers. Most people at the farm prefer the blunt buzz of truth.

“He said your mom asked him to.”

Dante huffs. “Of course she did. Why would I think - ”

“Hey, hey,” HR says, staking him in place before he spirals. “She asked him, but he did it. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be.”

Dante doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders roll less stiff. HR wants to physically toss him into Cisco’s arms, but that would be inappropriate and unhelpful. Their brotherhood needs to blossom back to life without any interference.

“You should go out there. Before he has a panic attack from being so close to the bees.”

“He does really hate bees. Ain’t nobody got time for bees.” Dante smiles, fond.

“He hates bees and he came to the bee farm to have a picnic for you? You’re right. He does sound adorable.”

Dante ignores Cindy’s comment. He nods to HR, smooths down his shirt, and makes slow strides towards the door.

Before he gets too far, though, HR’s brain kicks itself. He doesn’t question whether it’s smart or not to pick up one of the pins Lisa designed, but Cisco isn’t a client, and there can’t be too much harm in offering a little thing as cute as Cisco’s smile. HR hands the pin to Dante.

“Bees knees?” Dante asks, eyebrows raised.

“A gift for Cisco. You can show him something you helped make.”

“Okay,” Dante says slowly. “But I was serious about no squishing.”

HR raises his palms in surrender. “No squishing.”

With a breath, Dante exists the workshop. HR resists the urge to twist his neck around the door frame. Cisco and Dante have love for each other, still saccharine and just below the surface. It’s not HR’s business to scratch anything for them.

He begins to step out of the rest of his suit. Cindy circles to his side.

“Just how squishable are we talking?” she whispers, like a secret.

HR keeps the answer in his chest.


End file.
